


Demon Slayer

by bellamyslady



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-27
Updated: 2015-01-28
Packaged: 2018-03-09 07:26:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3241313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellamyslady/pseuds/bellamyslady
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke is suffering from the aftermath of what she had done and Bellamy seems to be the only one who can stop it. [Post 2x08] This is a three part fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a three part post-2x08 fic. I know 09 is already out but I’ve wanted to write this for a while and it’s finally manifested into something I am happy with. I haven’t written in a very long while so my smut and angst is rusty. The title of this fic was originally When Time Stood Still but I changed it as I felt Demon Slayer gave the fic more depth.

_“Finn.” Her hands were caught above her head in his grip and all she could do was move her hips. He chuckled in response as he pressed feather-like kisses across her jaw and collarbone. Her hips writhed beneath him. She bucked and her core came into contact with his hard length, causing her to groan. She was sure that he groaned as well and shuddered._

_“Be still, Princess. Or this will end much faster than I want it to.” The whisper caused her nipples to tighten. Raising his head, he watched her breasts as if fascinated with her reaction. The scrutiny caused Clarke’s nipples to tighten even more which brought a smirk to his lips. “Please.”_

_“I love it when you beg.” And then his fingers were on her left nipple, his mouth on her right. His hand tugged and pulled gently at her nipple while his tongue laved at her right before he bit down. Clarke cried out and arched into his mouth. His mouth went from her right nipple to her left while his hand drifted low on her hip. Her breath caught in her throat and he slid his hand into her panties._

_She didn’t know to cry or to scream so it became a cross between the two. His fingers caressed her folds, spreading the wetness around as his fingers danced dangerously close to her clit. She thrust up, hoping that his hand would slide where she wanted it to go. “It isn’t going to work.” Finn pushed her down, his fingers stroking her outer lips, all the while spreading her juices around. “I want to savour you, Clarke. And I will.”_

_“Please.”_

_Finn chuckled once more. For some reason, Clarke realised that something was very, very wrong. Finn never chuckled and he never made her wait. He was an attentive lover but he always gave her what she wanted. She never had to beg and she never was teased. Then, his thumb brushed across her clit and all thought was obliterated. “Stop thinking.”_

_Before Clarke could do anything else, he plunged his fingers into her and kissed her at the same time. Her scream of pleasure was absorbed into his mouth as his thumb brushed over her clit. She was wet, so wet. And she was so hot, so very hot._

_Then, she heard the scream and there was blood on her hand. It was warm and it was dripping and there was the knife, the glint caught on the fire glow. Finn was above her, his weight on her, crushing her as the hollow words reached her ears, “Thank you, Princess.”_

_No, no. The mad cheers (or was it roars?) of the Grounders filled her ears. Finn’s eyes were filled with pain and hatred. His face morphed into Raven’s, wailing. She was doing nothing but screaming. The blood dripped down Clarke’s arm. She had killed Finn. She had killed Finn. Raven turned to her, her eyes were blood-red and screeched. With each syllable, the screech grew sharper and sharper, enough to shatter eardrums. “Murderer! Murderer!”_

She couldn’t breathe. Breathe. Clarke screamed.

The scream caught in her throat as she woke up, her eyes immediately going to her hands. Although she had scrubbed herself clean, she could still see the blood there. She could still feel the sickening warmth of Finn’s life force drip down her arm. She was shaking violently and shivering.

Clarke wrapped her arms around herself tightly, as if she were pulling herself together, until the shaking stopped. The shivers, however, didn’t. Nights on the ground were unusually cold but despite blanketing herself in all the heat-technology gear the Ark had, she was still shivering. And she couldn’t fall asleep.

With a sigh, Clarke grabbed the nearest jacket and left her room. Too late, she realised that she had grabbed Finn’s jacket and nausea hit her. She was doubled over, dry heaving as the flashbacks came. She had needed something more positive to remember him by and had fought to keep it rather than have it recycled. However, as his scent overwhelmed her senses, Clarke was crippled.

She slid to the floor, using the wall as support. Tears rolled silently down her cheeks as she fought the nausea. In the day, Clarke had to be strong; she had to show the Grounders that she was unaffected. However, in the dark, where all secrets lay, she had no reason to be.

That was how Bellamy found her. “Clarke.” His voice was soothing. It was the same one that he used to comfort Octavia. She felt him sit down next to her, a solid block of heat. She was numb as he held her against his chest, tucking her tightly into his embrace. This had been their routine for the past four nights. “Same dream?”

She clutched tightly at his leather jacket and inhaled Bellamy instead of Finn. She clung to him until the tightness of his embrace stopped the shaking and his warmth stopped her shivering. “You’ve got to stop using me like this, Griffin. I feel like a tissue.”

Her laugh escaped her lips in a sort of pathetic gurgle. She smiled a little and then tucked her head under his chin. His hand stroked her back repeatedly. The reassuring weight of his chin and the steady beat of his heart comforted her.

She lay there in the dark, listening to the sound of Bellamy’s even breathing before she found the courage to answer the question he had asked four nights ago when he had found her in the same position but in a different corridor. “I dream of him. I dream that I’m killing him over and over. I dream of Raven killing me.”

She didn’t tell him that she dreamt of sex and that dream-Finn didn’t sex like real Finn. She couldn’t admit that in Finn’s place, she was dreaming of Bellamy, or at least, what she thought Bellamy would be like in bed. “How do you do it? How do you take a life and live with it?”

“I’ve never killed someone I loved.”

“I didn’t love Finn.” The protest was weak even to her ears but it was that.

“Everyone knows. Admit it and it’ll make grieving easier.”

“I am not grieving.”

“Then what is all this for? If this is not grieving, then tell me what it is, Clarke. Because it sure as hell looks to me like you are.”

Tears rolled down her cheeks but she didn’t know if it was caused by anger or sadness. Perhaps it was both. “Regret. It is regret.”

With a groan, Bellamy pulled her close. “It had to be done, Clarke. There was no other way. It was their hand or ours.”

“I see him every time I close my eyes. I feel his blood on my hands. Raven won’t stop looking as if she wants to gorge my eyes out. I can’t do this, Bellamy.”

“Yes, you can. I believe you can. We need you to lead us, Clarke. We need you. I need you.”

Clarke’s breathe caught in her throat at that simple admission. Days ago, she had told him that she couldn’t lose him. Her heart raced in her chest. It was a long while before either of them spoke. Clarke could feel the irregular beat of Bellamy’s heart against her cheek. “I should tuck you in before anyone wonders if I am compromising you.”

It was back to teasing Bellamy. Clarke preferred teasing Bellamy. It was safer and easier to deal with teasing Bellamy who treated her like a sister. The walk back to her room was quiet which gave Clarke time to process what Bellamy had just said. It was a slip of the tongue, of course, nothing more. Clarke entered her room and turned to speak but he beat her to it. “This is where I say good night.”

With a small smile, Clarke nodded. “Good night, Bellamy.”

However, as he turned to leave, the fear of her dreams returned again. Bellamy had said to slay the demons once upon a time but how was she to slay her demons when she was the demon? She started shaking once more and Finn’s scent surrounded her. Without hesitation, she called out to Bellamy.

“Will you stay with me?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As the previous chapter is written from Clarke's POV, this one is from Bellamy's. See end for more notes.

_“Bell.” The smells of the forest disappeared as he nipped roughly at Clarke’s neck, his hands quickly divesting her of her clothes. He palmed her bare breasts, her nipples pebbling against his palm. He grinned up at her and planted two light kisses on both of breasts before claiming her mouth hard. He wrapped a hand in her hair and tugged her hair back, angling her head just right and holding her captive. Her moans were drowned out by his kiss as she wrapped her arms around his neck._

_Then, her hands were in his hair, tugging painfully at his scalp but he liked a little pain. He bit down on her tender flesh hard enough for her to cry out and leave a bruise. With a satisfied chuckle, he soothed the smarting flesh with his tongue as his free hand began tugging and pinching her nipple.  “You’re not naked enough.” Clarke’s complaint made him laugh softly and he broke away from her, holding out his arms._

_“Why don’t you do something about it?”_

_He could see the challenge flare in her eyes as she edged him back against a tree and slid her hands under his shirt, lifting the fabric and over his head. Bellamy missed the wicked look in her eyes but not the sharp nails that raked down his chest. She flicked at his flat nipples and experimentally licked the puckered flesh, drawing a tortured moan from his throat. And then, her hand was palming his crotch and he involuntarily thrust against her. “Slow down there, big boy. We’ve got all night.”_

_Bellamy growled and circled her wrist with his fingers, lightly but firmly tugging her away and spinning her around so that she was against the tree. “Keep that up and we won’t.” His hand slid down her front and toyed with the fabric of her panties._

_“I will. You…won’t.”_

_“You will beg me before this is over, princess.”_

_“Make me.”_

_Bellamy couldn’t resist her like this and he kissed her hard, hearing and feeling their teeth click against each other. He groaned and pressed his hips against hers as she palmed his crotch once more. An almost feral growl rose from his throat as he captured that wrist as well and lifted both arms above her head. “Don’t. Move.”_

_With Clarke at his mercy, Bellamy lavished attention on her breasts, pinching and tugging on one nipple with his mouth on the other and then switching constantly. Clarke’s hips danced beneath him and he could smell her arousal. He trailed his fingertips down her front before digging them into her hips and tugging her lower body against his. He ground his hard cock against her wet core before sliding her panties down her legs._

_He parted her wet folds and found her clit, lightly teasing the hard nub. Clarke cried out into the darkness and Bellamy shushed her with a playful kiss. “Shh, princess. Everyone will hear you.” Clarke only rolled her eyes at him._

_He circled her clit once more before sliding lower and plunging two fingers into her wetness. The heat that enveloped his fingers made him groan, a preview of what it would be like when he took her. Hard. He dropped to his knees and removed his fingers, blowing gently on her mound. Clarke whimpered and then spread her legs wider in anticipation. “Bell, please.”_

_“I told you you’d beg.” He needed no other encouragement and he spread her with two fingers before plunging his tongue into her core. The scream that tore from Clarke’s throat…_

“Will you stay with me?”

Bellamy had woken up with a raging hard-on to a dream of Clarke under him and now she was asking him the impossible. That little question had his heart racing and it was more than just his hormones. He could still feel her lush body beneath his, could still hear her cries of pleasure and taste her skin. However, he also knew what the trials Clarke had been put through could do to the mind: insanity, insomnia, dementia etc. _If you weren’t being such a horny prick, you’d sit with her till she fell asleep. You’ve done the same for O more than once. Picture O. Just picture O._

“Your mom wouldn’t like that.” He gave her a sheepish grin and ran his hand through his hair. Clarke didn’t look convinced but she just stood in the doorway and crossed her arms across her chest. The silence grew awkward as Bellamy avoided her eyes and Clarke never relented. On a sigh, Bellamy turned away from her slightly and said firmly, “Good night, Clarke.”

He had walked a few steps away when she said, “Why not? What are you avoiding, Bell? It’s not like you’ve never done it.”

Immediately, his mind went to sex and then, sex with Clarke. Of course he had had sex. His promiscuity wasn’t a secret and he wasn’t ashamed of his body. He knew that girls wanted him but the only girl whom he wanted didn’t seem to desire him in return. His defence: flirt.

“I can assure you, princess, that I have done it in more ways than one. I know how to make a girl scream. Is that why you want me in your room so badly?”

Bellamy could see when he had caught her off guard even though he felt a little disgusted with himself for stooping so low. Clarke’s breath caught in her throat and he could see her nipples tighten underneath her thin shirt. “I thought so.” With a smirk, he turned away once more.

“What are you afraid of, Blake? That you can’t resist me?”

It was his turn to get caught off guard. It was true. He couldn’t resist her but of course, he wasn’t going to tell her that. _How did it go from crying Clarke to feisty Clarke?_ Bellamy didn’t have an answer but his pants suddenly grew tighter. However, he couldn’t resist the snarky comment that slipped from his lips. “I can resist you fine. But when you beg me to take you, I have no intention of being your replacement for a dead boy.”

She didn’t deny it. Her expression said it all. He was a fool anyway. “Forget it. Go to sleep, Clarke.”

“Slay your demons when you’re awake, they won’t be there to get you when you sleep. That’s what you told Charlotte, isn’t it? Help me slay my demons.” As an afterthought, she added, “Finn’s my demon.”

Bellamy groaned. He could not be near Clarke and a bed, not with the dream still fresh in his mind and her scent overwhelming in such close quarters. And not with the ache in his heart knowing that Clarke’s heart still belonged to Finn. But, Bellamy knew the power of company, especially when the dreams were especially dark and the nights were especially lonely.

“That…isn’t such a good idea, Clarke.”

Clarke didn’t respond. “The last time I tried helping someone _slay their demons_ , two deaths were on my hands.”

Still, Bellamy couldn’t walk away. The look of sadness and fear that Clarke wore touched a part of his heart, one that didn’t involve stripping her naked and making her beg. It made him want to take her to a secret part of the forest where flowers grew abundant and the sun shone bright where grounders, Mt. Weather and the Ark didn’t exist. It would just be the two of them.

“Please.”

“Why me?”

“You’re available.”

Bellamy could tell she was lying. Spending so much time together had attuned him to all her little quirks and tells, a skill he had picked up in cadet training. “Screw you.”

“I see the way you look at me.”

“Fuck you.”

“Yeah, do that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took longer to write than I intended it to. It was very difficult to capture Bellamy's voice, especially in the smut bits. Bellamy doesn't speak much in my head so I apologise if it's OOC since he barely says anything. He's more action than talk.


End file.
